what goes around comes around.
and sometimes they come screaming.
i want to feel your fingertips on my skin, so i know that you won't just brush through me -
i want you to prove to me i'm not as invisible as i feel.
so you want somebody to cure these lonely nights -
solitude is a way of life.
wild animal insticts of survival were sacrificed for the vainest of Romantic ideals.
heads and hearts in glass cases in art museums. decorated in all shades of emergency.
it's breaking me down watching the world going round without me.
can anybody hear me, because i just can't hear myself.
take a photo, it might last longer than i do.
